


Once

by blueblood (sangreazul)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Detroit: Become Human (Video Game) RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Death, Domestic Fluff, Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Memories, Multi, Nightmares, Nostalgia, Panic Attacks, Past Relationship(s), Recovered Memories, Shock, Short One Shot, Suicide, TW: for like everything in this, some fluff and soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:01:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25385707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sangreazul/pseuds/blueblood
Summary: But oh, I remember how you used to shine, back thenYou went down so easy like a glass of wine, my friendWhen the dawn came up you felt so inspired to do it againBut it turns out you only get to do it onceGavin and Elijah always had an odd relationship after they broke up from their highschool romance, but Gavin always assumed he was over it, especially when he started dating Nines. However, when news is spread that the creator of androids himself was dead, it brought up unresolved feelings he didn't know he had.
Relationships: Elijah Kamski/Gavin Reed, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Once

**Author's Note:**

> churned this out in a day because i realised i've hardly written anything for dbh,, so here's just some headcanon-y shit

Gavin reached a shaking hand over, his skin seemed so pale in the bright light of the screen, and turned the television off. The screen went dark, along with the rest of the room. He hadn't realised it was so dark, so unforgiving. The streetlights weren't even on now, it was too late, they were too bright. He gripped Nines' hand tighter in his own, unwillingly tensing his muscles to fight back any tears that threatened to fall. His shoulder blades were pressed firmly against the back of the sofa; he could feel the worn leather molding around him. His toes were scrunched up against the carpet beneath them.

Hearing about it all from a newsreel at 3am somehow hurt more than he assumed it would have if he hadn't heard it secondhand, along with the rest of the world. It was a national, no, global, tragedy: there would be memorials and tributes, books and twitter posts about how he'll fly high and be missed. Then it would go quiet and people would move on. 

Gavin paused for a moment, halted his myriad of thoughts, and forced himself to sit up in the seat. He could hear the rain lash against the windows and the wind blow blizzards across the sky. The snow in Detroit hadn't been as heavy in the months following the revolution, but the rain had continued to fall which left sludge and mud lining the streets. He shut his eyes against the shadows around him. 

"It's rather unexpected." Nines finally spoke, Gavin's hand still firmly in his own. Gavin nodded slowly; Nines was right - it was sudden, with no hint or warning, as if one day he had just decided to end it all without a second thought. Which was the most unexpected thing out of everything: Elijah Kamski always did everything for a reason. 

***

“Hey, dipshit,” he pushed the door open, eyeing the room around him. It was filled with drawings, designs, formulae and god knows what else. Elijah didn’t even look up as he entered the room and instead let out a small chuckle. He was writing something in his notebook, or perhaps transferring it from said notebook to his laptop which rested next to him on the bed. Gavin waited for a couple of silent moments before talking again. “Stinks of shit in here - when was the last time you got out?” This statement seemed to finally draw Elijah’s attention away from his work. He rolled his eyes, a small smile on his lips.  
“Yesterday actually,” he shrugged, turning to lock eyes with Gavin. Then he watched his face slip into a smug smirk. “I’m surprised they let you in here without me, I thought campus security was meant to protect us from people like you.”   
Gavin scoffed. “Excuse me,” he started, walking over to him and sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’m your fucking saving grace.” He was expecting some quick-witted response which he wouldn’t be able to find a fast enough comeback to and lose the battle right there and then, but, to his surprise, Elijah was quiet. His face had softened, sharp, blue eyes melting into his darker ones.  
“Maybe you’re right.” his tone was wistful, gentle. Gavin blushed.

***

He opened his eyes again, startled by the darkness around him. He thought he could smell the fresh autumn air coming through Elijah’s open, dormitory windows, but was instead greeted with the dull and dismal late winter winds. He squeezed Nines’ hand once, then let go, pushing himself off the sofa and stretched. Everything seemed so numb, so meaningless. He was in a mist, a deep fog, and couldn’t tell which way he was facing. He felt Nines’ hand on his shoulder and leant back into him. Where was he meant to go from here? He shut his eyes.

***

Elijah was right: you could see the entire city from the roof. Or at least it felt like it. They sat, legs hanging off the edge, watching the stars and talking about nothing in particular. But now the dawn was breaking and the few clouds were parted by the gentle rays of the early morning sun. It was rich and golden. He managed to draw his eyes away from the sun's magnificence to look at Elijah. The light swam in his eyes, melted into his skin. He shone.

“We should do this again.” They had both sat in silence breathing in the new day for longer than he could count until Elijah spoke again. Gavin looked at him once more in the early morning light and nodded gently.

***

He was lying in his bed when he opened his eyes; the covers had been placed neatly over his unconscious body, the curtains had been drawn. The dim light of the streetlamp gradually warming back up again outside seeped through the thin cotton. Nines was lying next to him, eyes gently closed.

They never ended up doing it again, Elijah hadn’t even tried to after he started university and then work. He was a teenager - they were meant to sneak out past their curfew and spray paint a tunnel or something. They had plans together: to go driving late at night and blast music down the highway, get lost and skip stones across a river they had never seen before, to feel the summer heat against their faces one more time.

“You should try to get some sleep.” Nines’ voice was soft and he was grateful. It reminded him of the present, the only thing that was grounding him. He closed his eyes. 

***

The beach was empty and the sand was white beneath their feet. They had waited the others out and finally acquired the true dream of having an entire shore to themselves. It wasn’t hard: in November nobody actually wanted to be outside with the freshness of the seabreeze and the fading, lilac sky. The deep red wine in Elijah’s glass created a stark contrast to the pale blue of the sky reflected on the clear ocean. Gavin took a drink from his bottle of beer, swallowed easily and smirked. “I don’t get how you can drink that shit, Eli,” Elijah scoffed at him, waving his glass lazily around before taking a sip from it. Gavin made a false gagging noise which, in turn, made him spit out the small amount of liquid he had actually got in his mouth over the once pure white sound. 

***

He didn’t think he’d ever laugh that hard again, not at anything or anyone. Moments like that, you couldn’t orchestrate, whether you wanted to or not; their laughter had filled the twilight air. It was easy. They never ended up going back there though, after carving their initials into a nearby palm tree and running along the shore as the tide washed in and out. He missed the salty, but cool sting of the ocean against his skin. The sand beneath his bare toes. The sound of the wind through the trees. 

***

Gavin knew he would have had to have get up much earlier than he ever wanted to if he was going to stay over at Elijah’s apartment. He knew that and had kept reminding himself of it during the evening and late into the night as they stayed awake to hear each hour pass. However, actually putting that plan into action was the difficult part. He watched the light from the streetlamp outside filter through the cotton of the curtains and form an intricate pattern on Elijah’s soft skin. He enjoyed winter mornings; the sun would take hours to rise and he could stroll down the streets in the gentle light of the streetlamps. He had the picture of the orange light against the deep purple of the sky so vividly in his head, he would be able to paint it in his sleep. He wondered if Elijah did. Brushing a stray strand of dark hair out of his face, he leant forward and placed a careful kiss on his sleeping forehead. He preferred him when he didn’t have to wait to a witty and embarrassing response. He could just look without justification.

Sighing greatly, he hauled himself up from the silk sheets. They always seemed to manage to tangle themselves around his ankles when he was there. His clothes were right where he had left them the night before: randomly scattered across the room. He frowned and began to piece together his outfit again in the silence and the darkness. Fortunately, he had left his money in the pocket of his jeans otherwise he would have to wait until he got home until he could have coffee again; Elijah couldn’t bear to have any form of caffeine in his house. He was too pure, Gavin scoffed. Pulling on his jacket, he made his way quietly to the door and something inside him told him to stop. Something halted him, forbade him from walking any further before turning around, turning around and looking back at him. So he did. And Elijah lay there in his half empty bed, just as expected, in the dim light of the morning and messily covered by the silk duvet. 

***

His chest felt like fire, he couldn’t stop it from beating in and out, he couldn’t seem to find the air around him. His eyes had snapped open as if an alarm was sounded in his mind. Nines was next to him suddenly, holding his back, talking to him. He couldn’t hear him but he somehow understood what he was saying. His hand fit perfectly intertwined with his own. He was back again. 

“What did you see?” it was a gentle question, his voice was quiet, still rubbing circles into Gavin’s back as he began to steady his breathing. Gavin shook his head slowly, gradually regaining the voice trapped in his throat.  
“I,” his eyes finally focused on Nines’ face in front of him. His eyes were bright and calming, somehow soft and fierce at the same time. He was listening to him intently, dark eyebrows furrowed. “I know what he did.”

And he did. When the reporters and journalists and cameras all flooded into the bedroom of his isolated villa on the outskirts of the city, they had been greeted with a familiar sight. They had found the body of Norma Jeane, lying naked, in her bed with her antidepressants scattered around her at the age of 36 and the headlines stated that Marilyn Monroe was found in the nude. The newsreels to come would read something similar: that the creator of all androids died naked at the age of 36. 

Elijah Kamski always did everything for a reason.


End file.
